Secondhand Smile
by writerofberk
Summary: under revision
1. All I Have to Say is Goodbye

_**Secondhand Smile**_

 **A/N: First off, credit for this idea goes entirely to CandyassGoth and her wonderful, hilarious crack fic _Treasure Panty_ , which is where I got this idea. Luckily, when I brought it up to him/her, s/he was extremely enthusiastic and gave me permission to write a serious, multi-chapter spin-off. I want to say this will be a long fic, like 100,000 words or more, but I'm not sure? I guess it depends on how well-received this fic is, and how the fic unfolds. I want to say I've got most of the main plot points down, but I must admit I didn't plot this one out as thoroughly as I guess I could have. I was a bit eager to set pen to paper. As I said in the summary, this is a very slight AU of the last...I dunno...thirteen minutes? And the beginning, after this, is set before the end where Jim graduates. I actually got to admit, I didn't realize Jim was graduating at the end. I thought he was wearing the uniform and shaking hands with the police officers and everything to show that he'd just been accepted. I guess considering Doppler and Amelia had four kids and I'm just guess-stimating here, especially considering we're not really sure how the birthing procedure works for aliens...but yeah, I guess Jim would have been nineteen at the end.  
**

 **Also this is gonna be Jim/Silver father/son mostly because Silver's bae and Jim's bae and together they have a bae relationship. Thanks for checking this out, if you like it then chapter 2 will be up, maybe this month, maybe next, maybe not until summer, I don't know. What are deadlines.**

* * *

Jim always thought it would have been easier had he gotten to say goodbye.

Had he woken sooner; had he pushed himself out of bed quicker; had he raced down the stairs just a heartbeat faster; had he not paused, white and numb with shock, upon the doorstep, had he merely kept running, scrambling for the docks, had he not tripped and fallen, had he made it there in time, had he reached his father quickly enough to grab the man by the sleeve or wrist or hand, had he made it there and managed to clutch and hold some part of the man he loved, things might have worked out differently. His father might have looked down at him and decided to stay; might have picked him up and hugged him; might have carried him onto the ship, too; might have said something, anything – _I love you, I'll miss you, I won't go away forever, I'll come back, I love you, I'll miss you, goodbye…_

Had the boy himself not been silent; had he called out for his father, called for him to stay, begged him to slow or pause or wait; had he managed to open his lips, move his tongue, force words through his throat, things might have worked out differently. He could have said something – _I'm sorry, I'll do better, don't leave, why are you going, did I do something wrong, was it me, was it Mom, whatever it was I'll fix it, please just stay, please turn and look at me, I'm sorry, I love you, let me say goodbye…_

But it was all for naught, all of it; his wishes, his wondering, his unanswered, unasked questions, his unspoken words, his unheard cries…his father had sailed away from him years ago, and even if he did possess the power to rewind time, he wasn't sure he'd find the right words. He wasn't sure he'd ever find the right way to say goodbye.

These past three months had changed everything.

Seven years he had spent, seven years wrapped in an oversized black jacket, seven years spent on a homemade knockoff of a solar surfer, seven years spent wondering and hoping and searching and wishing, seven years spent looking to the sky, seven years of sleepless nights, seven years of endless sorrow and guilt and grief, seven years spent hurting and hating himself, seven years wasted trying to think of how he could have said goodbye.

And this voyage had changed him; Silver had entered his life, and the last thing Jim had ever expected was to grow to like the gruff, demanding galley cook – yet in some strange way, he had. Somewhere between scrubbing the deck and steering skiffs, somewhere between rinsing dishes and scraping barnacles, somewhere between searching for treasures and sailing through the stars, he had changed, both within and without.

In the warm glow of Silver's pride, his jacket fell away; his solar surfer paled; his nights became restful; his resentment, his bitterness, his brittle smiles and dishonesties collapsed and crumbled when met with the cyborg's unyielding nature. Nowadays, when he tipped his head back to look at the sky, he did it only with the intent to look at the stars.

Three months had passed in a blink, and within them, he hadn't thought for a second about the right way to say goodbye.

For the first time in seven years, watching the glowing Spaceport Crescentia draw nearer and nearer, he felt content. Everything had worked out; they'd found the loot of a thousand worlds; BEN had found his mind; they had survived the explosion; he'd managed to open the door to the spaceport; the RLS Legacy had made it through; Silver had proven himself an honest friend, despite the mutiny; the captain had told him there was a good possibility that he might be accepted into Interstellar Academy after everything he'd done; he and Doppler had managed to work out a version of the story that largely glossed over the dangers; and now they were nearing the spaceport, they were heading home, and Silver—

Jim's heart gave a sudden jolt. In the action and excitement and heat of the moment, he had not considered the old cyborg. But the captain was a woman of her word, and she'd vowed to see the mutineers hung, every one of them, and Silver was one of them, Silver was a mutineer, a pirate…they'd send him to the gallows. The man he had come to love, the heartless pirate with the heart of gold, the man who was almost like his father…

At these unpleasant thoughts, the teenager shot an instinctive glance toward the staircase, where he had last seen the man – but Silver was no longer there. The cyborg had disappeared. And even when he turned abruptly from the rail, tearing his gaze from the approaching spaceport, blue eyes scanning the ship, every inch of polished deck, every mast, every sail, the shrouds, the bowsprit, even when he pushed past BEN, ignoring the robot and the doctor and their questions, and raced for the galley entrance, he knew. Even when he gazed unseeingly down into the darkness of the quarters below, he knew. And even when he turned, bolted away from the steps and raced across the deck, tearing into the hangar, he knew.

He knew, and he could not be angry; the crew was distracted, this might be the only opportunity Silver had of escaping with his life; he couldn't be angry if the man was trying to get away now, trying to leave, but he had to see him – had to see that warm gaze, that gap-toothed smile, had to say something, anything, it didn't matter what anymore, he didn't need to work out the perfect goodbye, the right goodbye, just so long as he got to say it at all…

Jim rounded a corner, and his heart plummeted like a stone.

The hangar was empty.

He stood a moment, blood pounding in his ears, lump forming in his throat, grief rising up like a great wave, threatening to engulf and drown him, sorrow threatening to smother him.

And he couldn't stand it.

The hangar was empty, the longboat wasn't there; the ropes had vanished from their posts, nothing remained, it was clear what had happened, but the hatch…Jim sucked in a slow breath. The hatch was still open. "S-Silver?" His boots, pounding on the thin metal platforms, sounded extraordinarily loud in the thick silence as he closed the distance between himself and the hatch. "Silver?" He knelt by the open passageway, staring out into the empty sky. His own voice echoed back to him, hollow and empty.

The hangar was empty; the longboat wasn't there; the ropes had vanished from their posts; the hatch still swung open; nothing remained.

Silver was gone.

And he hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.


	2. I Want to Let Go

_**Secondhand Smile**_

 **A/N: READ THIS**

 **Before this fic, I had never, ever written third-person Jim POV, ever, despite my history in this fandom. When I realized what I was doing, midway through the second chapter, I got too intimidated to continue and completely abandoned the fic for basically the whole month of May. When I came back to it, I decided to just start it from Jim's first-person POV, and it started out so strongly, I was worried I would lose it if I veered away from it, so I kept it. So this chapter is Jim's POV, first-person, and it might stay that way throughout this whole fic. Just so you know.**

 **Anyway, look at us! Two chapters in! I dunno why I included BEN so much in this chapter, because he's annoying as hell. But I also feel sorry for him, and I always imagine Jim and BEN to act sort of like brothers, and yeah, I'm sure BEN gets on Jim's nerves and Jim sometimes loses his shit and yells at BEN, but I just kind of imagine they're stuck with each other and they both like it that way. Jim secretly likes it that way, but they like it that way nonetheless. Anyway. Rambles. Please review if you enjoyed it, and please give feedback if you notice an issue! I may have wrongly characterized somebody or my dialogue may be unnatural or something, so if you notice anything amiss, please politely address it.**

* * *

Silver was gone.

And this was a good thing, and I knew that, it was for the best and I knew that, I knew he couldn't have stayed – if he had, the captain would have had him on trial, facing the executioner's block or lifelong imprisonment the instant we docked at the spaceport. Silver, he was just trying to survive, just trying to look out for himself and Morph, he hadn't meant for things to end up this way, he hadn't, but they had and he was just doing the best he could with what was left.

He was out there somewhere, I knew; I could just imagine him sitting in the skiff, gap-toothed grin stretching his lips, cyborg eye flashing overjoyed gold, the wind in his face, Morph at his side, the eternal red skies around them, welcoming them; they were out there somewhere, they were alive, they were free, and they were together, out among the stars they both loved so much. They were alive, and they were free, and they were _happy_.

That should have been all that mattered to me.

I shouldn't still be here, in the hangar, I shouldn't be staring out at the patches of pink sky visible through the open hatch; I should have closed the hatch and left already, should have been standing on deck with the others, staring out at the spaceport, waiting, like them, to get back home. I should have wanted to go home. I shouldn't have been thinking, shouldn't still be here wasting my time wondering if Silver would have let me say goodbye. If he would have looked at me or smiled at me or even talked to me at all, if he would have said goodbye to me, too. If he missed me. If he would have left me with something, anything, to hold onto. If he would have let me come with him, if I had asked. If he would have stayed, if I'd asked.

No.

I shut those thoughts down before they could even start themselves up. I wasn't going down that road, especially not today.

I shouldn't have still been here, I should…I should have just left. I should have done that.

But I couldn't find it in me to move yet, so I just stayed where I was – crouched on my knees by the hatch, staring out at nothing.

Silver _couldn't_ have stayed. And it would have been selfish and stupid and mean – _I_ would have been selfish and stupid and mean, if I had asked him to. For a minute, I was glad he'd left before I had reached him. I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that if I had caught him here, if I had made it down here in time, I would have asked him to do that. To stay. For me.

And if he had said _no_ ; if he had told me that he couldn't; if I had looked up into his face and seen in every line and scar and flaw there, that he was telling the truth; if I had seen him one more time; if I had stared out into those eternal red skies and twinkling stars with him at my side…I would have asked if I could come with him.

And if he had let me, I would have jumped into that skiff without a second thought; because if I had looked up into his face and seen every line and scar and flaw, if I had seen him smile at me or heard him laugh, if I had tried to say goodbye, the idea of letting him go would have seemed impossible and unbearable.

I would have, I realized – and shame burst to life in my stomach, flaring up suddenly like fire – I would have abandoned everyone, everything else, just for a few more minutes with that old cyborg. I would have done it, and I probably would have thought of them, and missed them, but I wouldn't have ever found it in me to turn back, to ask Silver to take me home. If I had seen him even for a second, I would have gone anywhere just to be at his side.

It was better, I realized, that I hadn't gotten to say anything at all.

* * *

The minute I stepped off the gangplank – the second my boots hit the crowded, dusty streets of Montressor Spaceport, the noise hit me like a hammer.

Of course, BEN wasn't really helping with that; okay, seriously, I knew the guy was excited, and I got why – he hadn't done anything except aimlessly wander Treasure Planet for roughly a hundred years, so yes, I got it – but I figured he could at least talk like a normal person. At a normal volume. That was too much to hope for. And no, I'm not exaggerating.

"Jimmy!" He practically yelled the word in my ear, grabbing my hand suddenly in his and giving my fingers a squeeze. "There are _other robots,_ Jimmy! I haven't gotten to talk to another robot in three hundred—well, no, because there was that time Flint—but no, I guess it didn't really count, he didn't let me talk to her, not really…she looked spiffy, though, if you ask me, she had just gotten a new coat of paint and had absolutely no rust, I think the pirate she worked for took really good care of her, but he was shady as a shadow on a sunny day, and that was some business deal, let me tell you, Jimmy…"

"It's Jim," I reminded him halfheartedly – I saw an argument about this nickname in my future, and didn't see myself winning easily. I swept my eyes over the muddy streets again as I talked; I could still see the captain, fighting the crowd, in the distance, her familiar head of pale red hair trailed by the doc's unkempt, shaggy dark one. The captain had taken off immediately, told me she needed to deal with the remaining pirates, and Doppler had tagged along like a lost puppy or something. If you asked me, they had left BEN with me on purpose, but there was no way I was going to tell them that. I threw another look at the robot and added, "BEN, listen, can you—

"Ooh, there are ships taking off! I didn't think _any_ started out this late in the day!" He exclaimed loudly, metallic joints creaking and clanking in protest as he raised a rusted arm to point to the sky.

"Yeah, BEN, they leave all the time, it doesn't matter what time it is. But listen, do you think you can—

"I hear _music_!" He turned to face me, eyes huge and smile wide.

"Yeah," I nodded, locking my hand around his wrist and beginning to lead him through the thick crowd. I didn't hear anything, but I figured, being a robot, BEN probably had way better hearing than me. "But BEN, seriously—

"I _love_ music," he added rapturously, wistfully – and really, _really_ loudly. He threw a longing glance in the direction it must have been coming from. "I _never_ got to hear it when I was with Flint, he didn't care for it at all, so he never played it, and then he'd get mad if he caught me singing—I know all _sorts_ of things, sea shanties, mostly, that's all I've ever learned. I used to sing to myself on Flint's ship – I never really got in trouble for it or anything, but everyone knew he didn't like it, so I kept it real quiet, and then when I was alone on Treasure Planet, I would sing to myself to keep my spirits up and I told myself—

"BEN, do you think you can just keep it _down_?" I interrupted; I knew it was rude, but there was no way I was getting a word in if I waited for him to stop talking.

"Absolutely!" I wondered if he'd even heard the question, as this was his loudest yell yet. People actually turned to look at us as he went on. "I can do that, Jimmy! Whatever you want!" More people turned. Two aliens stopped mid-stride. "I can be quiet! I can be quiet as anything!" Three more aliens turned and glared at us. " _Flint_ didn't think so, let me tell you, he actually called me—!"

"BEN," I hissed; I could feel my face turning bright red. Every alien in the vicinity was staring at us, and he didn't even seem to notice.

Thank God, he finally looked around and seemed to realize just how loud he was being; he sucked in his lip then and stared at me in total silence, eyes wide and apologetic.

"BEN, you can talk," I told him; I'd only known him a few hours, but I already knew that whenever anybody told him to shut up, he took it literally and fell completely silent, staring at you like he was waiting to be beheaded or something. "Just…keep it _down_ , okay? You can talk, just be quiet about it."

"Absolutely," he repeated in a whisper; though this was definitely the preferable extreme, I wondered if he had a happy medium between this and screaming. "I can, Jimmy. I can be quiet. Anything you want, Jimmy."

"It's Jim, and c'mon," I motioned for him to follow me as I spoke. "We gotta find Mom."

BEN remained uncharacteristically silent for a full minute before speaking again; the question was voiced almost shyly. "Do you think she'll like me, Jimmy?"

"Who, Mom?" I paused to glance at him; he gazed up at me with such a strong mixture of hope and uncertainty that for a minute, I was sort of speechless. Was BEN really worried about that? I mean, yeah, he was loud; yeah, he talked a lot, and yeah, that could get annoying sometimes, but I realized with a start that I already liked him. I'd only met him just this morning, but he'd already grown on me, probably more than he should have. "BEN, are you kidding? She'll love you." I thought back to what he'd just said about Flint and added firmly, "Everyone will love you."

He beamed silently at me, and I gave him an answering smile back before turning to search the crowd again.

"Hang on, I think I see her," I weaved quickly around an alien, standing completely still in the middle of the street – and they were mad at me for bringing a socially inept robot to the spaceport – and squinted at a figure in the distance; I couldn't tell if it was Mom or just a really humanoid alien. "Let's get a little closer…"

"Jimmy?"

"What is it, BEN?" I looked away from my search for a minute to lock eyes with him.

"Everyone loves you, too, Jimmy."

I bit down on my lip, trying to conceal or suppress the forming smile on my face. "Thanks, BEN." I turned back to give the figure another glance; I couldn't hide the smile breaking out anymore. "That _is_ Mom. BEN, c'mon!"

"Are we allowed to yell now?" He perked up slightly.

" _No."_


	3. Tell the World I'm Coming Home

_**Secondhand Smile**_

 **A/N: Hey, guys!**

 **So, some of you might have recognized a particular word or phrase from some of these chapter titles, so just to clarify, yes, I am using lyrics from songs. Obviously, they all belong to their respective artists, and I own nothing from them. The songs don't really tie in with the fic, I basically just picked lyrics that matched the content of the chapter, so you might find lyrics here from songs that just really don't fit Jim's character or something, purely because I found that one lyric that fit. First chapter came from Secondhand Serenade's 'Goodbye', second came from the Killers' 'All These Things that I've Done', and this one comes from Skylar Gray's 'I'm Coming Home'. :)**

 **Don't forget you can find me on Tumblr under the username writerofberk if you're interested in getting a sneak peek here and there of a future chapter and look for me on YouTube with the name J.M. Ryder if you're into Treasure Planet fan-videos! :)**

* * *

I guess, if I'm being totally honest, that there was a second, when I stood there in the spaceport, scanning the crowd for Mom with BEN at my side, that I sort of started worrying. I mean, it didn't last very long, but I began to wonder if maybe Mom just hadn't come after all – maybe she didn't want to her kid again so soon, the kid who'd just up and left her behind to chase a childhood dream, the kid who hadn't given her a second thought for the better part of the voyage. I'd taken it for granted that she'd be here like she promised, that I'd be coming home to her at the end of the journey and she'd be there to welcome me; and when I couldn't find her…I don't even really know why I was thinking like that, why it was getting to me so much, because it wasn't like Mom had ever been like that. She had never given up on me – after seven years of watching me just throw my damn life away, she hadn't given up on me, so don't ask me why I thought three months without me would have made her do it. I don't know. I was just worrying, I guess.

The sight of her, pale yellow shawl pulled over her pinned-up hair as she pushed her tentative way through the crowd, silenced all those stupid thoughts; I found myself quickening my pace to a run as I made my way toward her, weaving from side to side to avoid running into anyone, BEN trailing a good ten paces behind me. I should have slowed for him; should have tried and made it easier for him to keep up with me, but I didn't even really think about it – all I could think was that I was coming _home_. After three months spent on a ship; after ninety days of sleeping in a bed that wasn't mine, ninety days spent out in the Eitherium, among all the stars and stories I'd grown up on, I was coming home. And Mom was just where she'd said she'd be. Waiting for me to come back.

She was looking away when I reached her; she hadn't seen me yet so I put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

When she turned to face me, I wondered if that had been a mistake.

I took a minute just to look at her, to study her eyes and face and everything, as if her features could tell me, better than words, exactly what I'd missed in these past three months. There was nothing in her – nothing in her expression, nothing in her eyes, nothing in her at all – that said she was happy to see me. It made me start to worry again, so I tried to just look at her, to just take silent note of all the changes I could see in her – like how her hair had started coming in gray, or there were more lines around her eyes and mouth now than there had been before I left, lines from too many years she'd spent crying and too few she'd spent smiling. I tried to just look at her, I tried to look instead of think, but I kept coming back to her eyes. There was nothing in them that looked like she was welcoming me back. She was just looking at me, too. Just looking at me the same way I'd tried to look at her. But I realized then that there was nothing in her eyes that really said she _wasn't_ happy to see me, either – there was nothing in her that said she _wasn't_ welcoming me back.

Unable to stand it anymore, I stepped forward and flung my arms around her, letting my forehead fall against her shoulder – I was almost taller than she was now.

I don't think she even let a second pass before hugging me back; and when she did, she held me so tightly it almost hurt, but I didn't care, I just closed my eyes and let it all in, the feel of her arms around me and the sounds of the spaceport swirling around us, aliens grunting in annoyance when they spotted us, motionless in the middle of the narrow street, and I smiled for the first time in what felt like years. I couldn't remember ever being this happy before.

I had finally come _home_.

She ran a hand over my hair, fingers plucking gently at every loose bit escaping from my braid, as if she was searching every solitary strand for some sort of difference, some physical evidence of the change I hoped she had seen in me.

"Oh, Jim." She sounded so happy – it made me hope that those lines on her face from all her tears could go away if she smiled enough. When I pulled away and looked at her again, it seemed like maybe they could.

"Mom, I—

"Ow!"

The sudden cry had me spinning around to find the cause; at the sight of BEN, sprawled out on his stomach on the street, limbs tangled around himself three and four times over, I knelt and held out a hand to help him up.

"That…that alien," he began to explain it to me, glancing darkly in the direction of a scaly, retreating back.

"…Ran you over?" I finished the sentence for him. "Yeah, they do that when you don't move."

"Jim?" Mom's hand found its way onto my back, a gentle pressure on my skin as she spoke.

Upon seeing her, BEN grabbed my wrist, held it in a death grip, and whispered in my ear, "Is that your mother, Jimmy?" Well, I say whisper because I know that's what he meant it to be, but he still said it loudly enough that Mom heard and looked, for a minute, both bewildered and a little amused.

I nodded, for his benefit, and motioned to him for Mom's. "Uh, Mom, this is BEN."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy's mom!" He flashed her a bright smile, releasing my arm in favor of her hand; once he had her fingers in his grasp, he shook so enthusiastically I was surprised poor Mom didn't fall over.

"…W-well…hi…BEN," Mom replied, a little faintly. "Um…?" She turned a questioning glance to me.

"I found him," I explained quickly. "He used to be part of Flint's crew, but they abandoned him on Treasure Planet."

"Jimmy found me!" BEN chipped in, obviously under the impression that he was helping to tell the story. "Jimmy _rescued_ me!" He gave me such a glowing look that I blushed, beginning to worry he might start trying to hug me again. I stepped out of his reach just in case. "Then we found the treasure and Jimmy saved everybody!"

Oh, shit. I'd promised Doppler I wouldn't say anything to Mom about the mutiny or anything – "down-playing the life-threatening parts", as he'd said, and I was pretty sure this whole day could go down under that heading. And BEN appeared to be gearing up to give details, so I started talking before he could. "That's really not how I remember it, BEN." I said it as sharply as I thought I could get away with, under the circumstances, trying to convey the message without words – _shut up, stop talking_.

The robot waved a dismissive hand in my direction before turning to talk to Mom. "Jimmy is very modest," he told her, evidently under the impression that I couldn't hear. "Jimmy just…just has these talents and this knowledge of things and then he won't take credit for them. But that's okay, I won't let him lie to you, because I remember the whole thing perfectly!"

"Then you'll remember everything was smooth sailing there and back," I replied, and even gave him the best glare I could muster up, under the circumstances, just to be sure he got the message – but he was looking at Mom instead, so it was totally wasted.

"Jimmy is _so_ brave," he continued happily, apparently oblivious. "I don't know anyone else who would call exploding planets smooth sailing, but that's just the kind of person Jimmy is!"

" _BEN!"_

"What?"

"Exploding planets?" Mom repeated, crossing her arms over her chest.

I sought the best possible angle on the situation. "No one got hurt."

Mom looked at me for a really long second. I fidgeted under her scrutiny. When she turned her eyes on BEN instead, I noticed he did the same.

Finally, she just said, in a much calmer way than I was expecting, "We have a lot to talk about."


End file.
